Destined for Hell
by Riyukitsa
Summary: Sam is trying to take his mind off things when Crowley appears. Set in season 11; sequel to Last Chance.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing. Just writing for fun. I had an idea for this and the darn characters keep twisting and turning the scenes away from where I'm trying to guide them. Please be gentle with reviews as I'm still working through character development here ^_^' feedback is certainly appreciated and will likely help me gauge the direction of this pairing. This story will be 2-3 chapters, so it's definitely "in progress" for now.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

The sun was too hot and Sam was just waiting for another breeze to pass so he wouldn't faint from heat exhaustion. He hadn't brought any water with him on this impromptu run. Seeing Dean and Castiel take off on another possible tip to taking down Amara, he had to do something productive to take his mind off of it.

'I'm not weak,' he thought to himself as he started running faster. He couldn't shake their comments from earlier.

"You need to stay here and lie low," Dean had told him.

"But if she does come for you while you're trying to find a way to kill her, isn't it better if we have more people to fight?"

"Dean's right, Sam," Castiel said. "We know she won't kill Dean and he can distract her if I need to leave, but you'd be caught in the crosshairs of a very dangerous-"

"Fine! I get it," Sam snapped.

Thinking back on it only reopened the wounds he was physically trying to run from. Would he hold them back in the battle against the darkness? If the visions he was having were from God, if he were meant to be back in the cage with Lucifer, to let Lucifer...

They wouldn't see him as a liability then. He stopped when he realized he didn't recognize where he was. He had just taken off running from the bunker, not paying any attention to the forest he had been mercilessly tearing through.

"Well... shit," he exhaled then leaned forward, placing his hands on his thighs to catch his breath. Sweat soaked his tshirt and his hair was matted to his face. He was glad he was isolated in the woods where nobody would see him.

He stood up straight and arched his back, reaching his arms up over his head, stretching.

"Lovely day for a jog, isn't it Moose?" Sam's eyes opened as he searched for that familiar voice.

He turned to find Crowley behind him, smirking.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Sam practically spat the last word, disgusted by the demons presence.

"You're the one regularly trying to kill me, you know. I'm just looking for your brother and his boyfriend. The angel is hiding them and I have information that could help us all obtain our mutual goal."

"Too little too late. They've already left on another lead," Sam turned away from Crowley and continued to stretch, pretending the demon wasn't there.

"Putting on a show for me, Moose?"

"Bite me, Crowley," the hunter said through clenched teeth.

Crowley reached up to grab a fistful of Sam's hair and pulled his head back at a painful angle, "that can be arranged."

Sam spun away from him, breaking his grip. "I'm not in the mood for your empty threats. Why don't you go back to hell?"

"I know you hate me, but you seem more angry than usual. What's wrong? Jealous the boys left you behind?"

When Sam sneered, Crowley raised an eyebrow. "And here I was only teasing. That's it, then? You didn't chose to stay here?"

"No, apparently it's too... they didn't think... Why the hell does it matter to you?" Sam had to keep himself from slipping up, not wanting to give the manipulative demon anything he could use against him or Dean later.

The king of hell shrugged. "It doesn't. Dean's my bestie. Not you."

"Ya know what, fuck you, Crowley." Sam turned and took off jogging back toward what he was certain was the bunker.

When Crowley appeared in front of him and pushed him backward, Sam fell hard. His lower back met with immediate pain and once he regained some composure, he glared up at the smiling demon.

"What the hell was that for?" He shouted as he sat up halfway, leaning on his right arm to prop himself up.

"You wanna be besties with me? Is that what set you off?" Crowley was still very obviously taunting Sam, but Sam no longer cared.

"Why you? Why Cas? Even Jo!" He was standing up slowly now, brushing the leaves off of him as he did. He was looking at himself, avoiding Crowley, brushing at imaginary leaves and dirt now. "Why does everyone love Dean so much? I get why. He's my brother. I know why he's so likable. But why so much more than me?" He finally looked up at the demon. His look was still angry, despite the desperation in his voice.

"Sorry, Moose. He's just more fun."

Sam ran a hand through his hair before realizing it was still damp with sweat. He sighed, patted down his hair as best he could and then looked back at Crowley. "So what now? Why are you still here? You want Dean and he's gone so leave."

Crowley had narrowed his eyes, watching Sam carefully now.

"I don't have anything pressing to do until they return. You and I haven't spent much quality time together other than when you've tried to end me."

Sam laughed bitterly. "You want to hang out with me? Thought I wasn't fun."

Crowley shrugged again. "Maybe you aren't. I had Dean singing karaoke with the mark of Cain on his arm. Maybe I can loosen you up a bit."

"I don't need loosening up, ok? I can be fun too."

"Then show me," Crowley said before they were both transported to a nearby bar.

"No, I shouldn't..." Sam was suddenly nervous as he searched the bar for the nearest exit.

"And this is why everyone loves Dean more." Crowley sat at a table and picked up a drink menu.

The reverse psychology seemed to work and Sam sat across from him, clearly irritated.

"Just... just don't let me drink too much."

"Don't worry. If you drink yourself to death, I'll make sure your warped soul returns as a demon. It was always your destiny to lead a demon army, wasn't it?" He grinned, watching Sam's reaction over the menu.

"Shut up." The anger was back for a second and then gone again as he took on a serious tone. "And no, it's just that when I drink... I already think like Dean; we are brothers, after all. But when I drink, I actually act like Dean. He's the only one who knows to keep an eye on me when I've had a few too many." Sam met the demon's eyes and could tell he still didn't understand. "I kind of need to, ya know."

"I don't. Go on."

"You know how there are happy drunks and sad drunks and funny drunks?" When Crowley didn't answer, Sam continued, "I get... a little, well, I get," he ran his fingers through his hair, exasperated. "I get horny. I have to have sex with someone."

Crowley laughed. "Really? Is that all? That's why you don't want to drink too much? Well if you want to sing karaoke or bang the waitress, I won't stop you either way. We came here to have some fun. So let's do it."

Sam sighed and buried his head on his hands as the waitress approached.

"Scotch, neat. And three shots of whatever the strongest vodka you have back there for my friend here."

* * *

Seven shots later, Sam couldn't stop grinning. Crowley was thoroughly enjoying the show. While Sam shamelessly flirted with every man or woman who approached them, Crowley needed nothing more than to sit back and sip his drink.

"Alright, I give up," Sam looked to Crowley, smiling, "why are we here?"

Crowley looked away as though he were thinking, then made eye contact with the hunter. "I think you've redeemed yourself, Moose. You are certainly more entertaining than I gave you credit for."

"Well I live to serve the king." He laughed loudly and then took another shot. Crowley was pleased that his response wasn't angry and bitter as he had come to expect. "Ya know, this really is fun." He downed another shot and Crowley raised an eyebrow. "I prayed and prayed for years. Dean never did. Not until he met Cas. And somehow, even though he's the one constantly scamming credit cards and lying to civilians for years, he's the vessel for heaven? Like what the shit is that? I belong in hell. You and I should have been friends, Crowley. Not you and Dean. I was destined for hell the moment my mother met yellow eyes." Another shot was downed and Crowley made the internal decision to not order any more.

"And my bitch of a mother left me little choice other than to become pure evil," Crowley held up his drink in an imaginary toast before taking a sip. "Best not to fight our nature, Moose."

Sam nodded and then looked out around the bar, taking it all in. He was grinning like an idiot until another man approached their table.

"Why don't you two fags go somewhere else? This is no place for perverts." Sam stared up at him, confused.

The newcomer only stood maybe 5'4" or 5'5" and Crowley debated simply asking Moose to stand in an attempt to scare the little bugger off. His hair was short and dark black and he wore a teal polo shirt with khaki shorts. Crowley only responded by rolling his eyes and looking back to Sam. When Sam didn't take his eyes off the new guy, Crowley snapped his fingers to get his attention.

"Focus, Moose." At that, Sam looked over to Crowley and it hurt Crowley more than he cared to admit to see such sadness in the hunter's eyes. "Look, frat boy," Crowley casually glanced over at him, "he made no unwanted advances and Moose isn't the type to seek unrequited love. Just not his style. Run along now and I won't have to string you up in the darkest dungeon in hell for threatening my friend."

The frat boy laughed. "Yeah, ok, you gothic piece of shit." It was Crowley's turn to look confused. "If you're threatening me, you should know my dad's a cop and I will press charges."

"I suggest you leave," Crowley's voice had taken on a dangerously dark tone, "now."

Sam looked back to the newcomer, obviously attempting to follow the conversation through a heavy cloud of alcohol. "You might wanna listen to him," Sam reached up a hand to the man's shoulder in a friendly gesture. "He could kill you in like 2 sec-"

Sam never got to finish his sentence as the man shoved him out of his chair and Sam, being more than a bit intoxicated, crashed to the floor. "Don't touch me, fag!"

Crowley stood so fast that he knocked his chair over and his lips were pursed as he watched the man suddenly struggle to breath.

"Crowley," Sam called weakly from the floor, "don't. He's not worth your time."

"You're right," Crowley said. The man's neck snapped and Crowley stepped over his dead body. "That's about as much fun as we should have for one evening." He looked back to Sam, who was picking himself up off the floor now.

Sam studied the dead body in front of him. "You," he looked up at Crowley then back at the man on the ground, "killed him. Why?"

"He deserved it. Again, Moose, we shouldn't fight our nature. Just because you and I are pal-ing around doesn't mean I will stop being a demon."

Sam was walking toward Crowley now and as he came near enough, Crowley began walking toward the exit with Sam following him. The rest of the bar seemed to not have noticed their exchange with the stranger.

"No, I mean why kill him. He was being an ass, but still." The event had sobered the younger Winchester, even if only for a moment.

"I'm actually flattered he assumed you and I were a couple. I'd like to think I could still attract a man like you. Truth be told, I just don't care for disrespect." He wouldn't tell Sam that he had seen red when the man shoved him. That the insults hadn't hurt him, but Sam's reaction to them had. "Now, we have a bit of a dilemma."

"Besides the dead body?" They were outside now, standing in the cool night air. Sam briefly remembered that he needed a shower and change of clothes hours earlier. He would tend to that at the bunker later..

"My demons can handle that," Crowley said as he reached for his phone and began exchanging text messages with said demons. "No," he didn't look up from his phone, "I mean our problem with returning you to the bunker in this state. The stench of alochol is all over you."

"I've drank before. They won't know I wasn't alone."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight, Moose." Crowley was insistent and the two were suddenly in a cheap motel room several miles from the bunker. "Sleep it off and then you can go home."

Sam smirked and then gently placed a hand on Crowley's face and kissed the demon. It wasn't a gentle kiss. Crowley was too stunned to pull away as Sam's lips pressed against his and Sam followed it by pulling Crowley closer to him. Crowley closed his eyes and returned the kiss, his hands moving to lock his fingers into belt loops on Sam's jeans. As Sam's lips parted, he let his hips push every so lightly against Crowley's and smirked into the kiss when the demon gasped. He could feel Sam's erection through the denim.

Crowley pulled away and stared at the taller man before him. "What in the hell was that?"

Sam looked confused. "I thought.. you brought me to a hotel room alone... I just thought.."

"Sam, you're drunk. I'm not going to sleep with you while you're drunk." Crowley wasn't expecting Sam's reaction of embarrassment. He tried to change the subject. "And what happened to your concern over the dead frat boy?"

Sam shrugged. "That's what you do, Crowley. That's who you are. I'm not shocked by it; you should know how much death I've seen in my life. You grow numb to it."

The King of Hell felt pity for the human. As a demon, he had seen and done terrible things. As a human, Sam's experiences with death and destruction were unparalleled, save for his brother. And here stood this broken man before him, silently asking to feel something, anything. Could the King of Hell really deny someone the right to indulge in their carnal desires? If he did, would the hunter finally begin to feel something for him other than pure hatred?

What Sam had said earlier came back to him and he remembered a time when he anticipated spending much time alone with the younger Winchester brother as they reigned in hell together after Azazel's death. He had held onto that thought, of becoming close with Sam, from the moment he learned of yellow eyes' plan. He always felt that he and Sam would end up close, similar to when humans would fantasize about meeting a celebrity. That was Sam Winchester to him, or at least that had been Sam Winchester to him. Instead, Sam fought against hell with all his strength and denied his unbreakable connection with everyone there. They couldn't make up for lost time, but maybe they could overcome their past transgressions for one night.

Crowley reached a hand down and gripped Sam's erection through his jeans. Sam took in a sharp breath. "Is this," Crowley started, "from the alochol? Or," he opened and closed his hand slowly and smirked when Sam's eyes closed, "have you finally realized how perfect we'd be together?" Crowley wanted him in every way, then.

Despite all the literal hell Sam had been through, he still wanted to remain good. All the King of Hell wanted to do was corrupt and yet, another part of him wanted to protect whatever innocence remained within the young man before him. He knew he could love the hunter. He was certain the hunter would never return those feelings...


	2. Chapter 2

"Sammy!" Dean's voice pierced through his skull. Why was he always so loud?

"Go away," Sam grunted, but before he could roll over in his comfortable bed, Dean was tugging at his shirt.

"No way, not until you explain this," Dean shouted angrily and Sam heard a tearing sound. He looked up to see Dean standing over him with a piece of paper in his hands. When he looked down at his own chest, there was a safety pin attached to his shirt with a small shred of paper attached to it.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

Dean didn't look at Sam and instead read the note aloud, "Thank you for a lovely evening. Looking forward to our next date night. With love," Dean flipped the note around so Sam could see it. "Signed Crowley!"

Sam felt his cheeks flush as he sat up and attempted to grab the note from Dean. His older brother pulled the note out of his reach and stepped back. Sam, embarrassed, looked away, only to see a beige trench coat on the other side of his bed. Perfect, more witnesses to his humiliation.

"So this is what you're friggin doing while we're out trying to take care of Amara? Playing house with the damn devil!"

"It wasn't like that," Sam shot back. He didn't feel like fighting, his stomach was still processing the alcohol from last night.

"Oh, ok," Dean said sarcastically. "Then tell me, what _was_ it like?"

Castiel finally spoke up. "I would rather not know the intimate details of Sam and Crowley's evening."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "Alright, Cas, on that note I'm gonna have to ask you to please leave the room." He glanced up at the angel with a stoic expression. "Not because of what Sam will say, but because that comment was completely unnecessary." The angel disappeared and Dean looked to Sam again.

"What the hell happened last night?"

"Well," Sam moved to sit on the edge of his bed. "Alcohol. I know that much," when he looked up at his brother, Dean wasn't smiling.

"I could tell that from the moment I walked in here. You weren't home last night when Cas and I got back. Then this morning you magically appear with a love letter from the King of Hell, himself, reeking of booze and bad decisions."

Sam actually smiled, "the bad decisions smell was actually from physical activity-"

"Don't say that!" Dean shouted. He sat beside Sam. "Why would you put that mental image in my mind?"

Sam laughed. "No, really. I was running-"

"For fun?"

"Yes, Dean, we've been over this. I was out running and Crowley showed up looking for you two." He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees. "Definitely alcohol involved," he said, taking a deep breath as the contents of his stomach gurgled.

"Got it. What happened, though?"

Sam was quiet as he tried to recall the previous night. His eyes suddenly widened as he remembered something. "I think Crowley killed some guy."

"Oh, ok, yeah. You _think_? You only think a demon, the king of hell, someone you have personally witnessed kill others might have killed someone?"

Sam closed his eyes, annoyed at Dean's comments. His head was pounding as he tried too hard to focus.

"Yeah, ok, it's likely." Sam said quietly.

"Was it the guy you slept with?"

Sam immediately looked to Dean, his eyes narrowed in anger. "I didn't sleep with anybody."

"That you remember," Dean corrected him.

"Well if I did, it wasn't that guy. Crowley killed him at the bar-"

"You were at a bar?"

"I'm not going to tell you if you don't stop interrupting." When Dean held up his hands in defense, Sam continued, "we went to the bar for a few drinks to wait until you got back. I um," his cheeks were flushing again, "I had a few too many and don't remember much after he killed the guy. He thought we were a couple-"

"Crowley thought-"

Sam shot Dean a warning glance and Dean clasped his hands together in his lap and looked at the ground.

"No," Sam started again, "the guy told us to leave. Then he shoved me and Crowley snapped his neck. I don't remember anything else..." as he said that, he had flashes of the hotel room come to him. His eyes widened, but he remained silent hoping Dean wouldn't notice the change in his body language.

Dean stared at him once he fell silent. "What else, Sam? You don't get that many drinks in you and behave yourself. Did Crowley watch while you...?"

"Damn it, Dean. No! It was just the two of us at the hotel!"

Dean stood, turned to Sam and punched him. Hard. Sam barely had time to think as his jaw took the full force of the blow. He leapt up from the bed and tackled Dean to the ground, punching him once for good measure before pinning him. Deans lip split open and blood was trickling down his chin while Sam's jaw was bright red and starting to swell.

"What was that for?"

"You fucked Crowley!" Dean said, furious, as he struggled to push his younger brother off of him.

Sam refused to move. "First, no I didn't. Second, I'm pretty sure that first part is true. Third, why do you care?"

Dean looked at Sam with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Because he's Crowley," Dean stressed the demon's name. "Have you forgotten he's not one of the good guys?"

Sam finally stood up and offered a hand to Dean, which Dean refused as he got to his feet. "No, Dean, I haven't forgotten. But we aren't exactly good guys ourselves, are we?"

"What has gotten into you?"

"Crowley," Sam joked, then stepped back quickly to avoid another hit as Dean swung at him again.

"Whoa! Just a joke. We just talked, I think. And if we did anything else, I don't remember. But it wasn't intentional, if that makes you feel any better."

Dean straightened his jacket as he walked toward the door, "it doesn't."

"I still don't get why this bothers you so much. You spend months with Crowley, playing best friends and I spend one night with him and I'm suddenly the bad guy."

The older Winchester stopped in the doorway, but didn't look back. "Because you're not me, Sammy. You're better than me. You start running around with demons again," Sam caught the reference to Ruby and clenched his now swollen jaw, "Cas and I will find a way to stop it."

"Not all demons have hurt us and not all angels have helped us, Dean. Crowley has let us slide more times than he would have let any demon in hell. And," he weighed the options, deciding it was now or never, "if you're that concerned, maybe you should start taking me with you instead of leaving me here to do research all the time."

"Fine. Let's go ask Cas for a neutral third party opinion."

Sam followed Dean out of the bedroom to the main hall that held the library.

The two stopped just short of the entrance, though, when they heard that Castiel was not alone.

"You didn't answer my question," Castiel said.

"Forgive me," a voice that was unmistakably Crowley's responded. "I was up all night caring for young Sam, but don't worry. I'll bring him back before curfew next time."

"Answer the question Crowley: why are you here?"

"I'm assuming you and Dean will be abandoning Moose again? I'm here to pick up the pieces as you two lovers wander off on another whirlwind adventure to save the planet. Or universe. Or whatever."

"Dean and I are not lovers. And we aren't abandoning Sam. We're protecting him."

Sam clenched his fists, feeling anger once more, but he didn't make a sound as he and Dean stayed hidden, listening to the argument.

"You do know what happens to an intellectual mind when it's left unattended don't you? Right, no, sorry, you wouldn't have any experience in that area." A long pause left Sam imagining Crowley's smirk as Castiel processed the insult. "Lucky for Moose, I'm fully aware of what happens. Overthinking, anxiety, reckless behavior. His mind will find a way to occupy itself and it's not always healthy."

"What's in it for you, keeping Sam 'occupied'?"

"Simple: I'm helping in the battle to defeat Amara. Who knows what little Winchester is capable of if he's running about, scheming plans to sacrifice himself that will inevitably backfire because he's been mentally and emotionally neglected. Let's say, for this war, we split the boys between Heaven," another pause and Sam pictured Crowley gesturing toward the angel, "and hell. Appropriately sorted by their sides of the war that they would've been used as vessels. I think that's only fair."

"You come here," Sam didn't miss the note of anger in Castiel's usually monotone voice, "calling for Sam. Offering to be, what? A babysitter for him?"

"I have all of hell at my disposal. You barely have access to heavens intel anymore beyond who's still wandering around Earth with you. I could help. I'd rather Amara not destroy the world as well. I believe we're all in agreement about that." Silence again. Then Crowley added, "and when are you going to tell the elder Winchester that you're pining for him? Haven't you two been putting it off long enough?"

Sam tried to stop him before Dean moved quickly to interrupt the conversation.

"Crowley," he said in a less than friendly tone as he walked through the doorway.

"Speak of the devil... oh wait, I'm already here," he smirked.

Sam came out after Dean, but couldn't meet Crowley's gaze. He felt the demon watching him.

"How kind of you both to make an appearance. We were just discussing strategy," Crowley directed the comment to Sam, obviously attempting to catch his attention.

Castiel spoke directly to Dean. "Crowley wants Sam."

Dean watched Crowley carefully as the demon stared at his younger brother. "Maybe Sam should come with us?"

"No," Castiel quickly interjected. "I don't think that's a good idea, Dean. We know Amara won't hurt you. I could get away quickly if things go bad. Sam wouldn't be able to escape her wrath."

"That's all hypothetical. It's just research for now. You're talking about if we actually run into Amara-"

"Which is very likely," Castiel interrupted, "considering she seems to never be too far from you."

"So it's agreed then," Crowley said. Before Dean could counter, Crowley and Sam were gone.


	3. Chapter 3

The cold stone walls did not seem welcoming. The dark colored accents and decorations didn't help. He noticed the large bed and felt a mixture of excitement and fear. Why were they in, what he assumed was, Crowley's room.

Sam felt cold, still wearing the same dark blue tshirt and black shorts from yesterday. He silently wished he'd had the mental capacity to change his clothes before following Dean this morning.

"Get undressed," Crowley instructed.

"No," Sam said, confidently. He still wasn't sure how he felt about the demon. Were they friends? Lovers? He couldn't read Crowley... what if they were still enemies in his mind?

Crowley sighed. "Look, Moose," he locked eyes with the human, "either strip or I'll make you. Those clothes are filthy." Crowley began walking toward the bedroom door. "I'll send someone to get you something clean to wear. Something... flannel," he said, with what sounded like disgust. "Shower's to your left." And with that, the demon disappeared.

Sam cautiously entered the large bathroom and immediately felt out of place. The room itself was twice the size of his bedroom at the bunker. A large tub took up most of the space, with a shower, two sinks and a toilet for good measure. The floors and walls were all stone while everything else was black and topped with black granite. "Crowley really is a king," he mused before pulling off his shirt. He tossed it on the floor and his shorts, socks and underwear followed next. He left his shoes sitting neatly next to the door then approached the shower with the clear sliding door.

When the warm water hit his skin, he felt a chill. It was perfect. He let the water run for longer than he meant to before he searched for soap. After thoroughly cleaning himself with a black bar of soap, he felt infinitely better. The water ran over him, soaking every inch of skin over and over. He couldn't bring himself to step away. The biggest relief was that the alcohol had seemed to have finally left his system and he no longer felt sick.

When Sam finally stepped out of the shower, he used one of the large black towels to roughly dry his hair before wrapping that same towel around his waist. He felt slightly exposed when he noticed his clothes were gone. Who had come in while he was naked?

Walking back into Crowley's room, he found the King of Hell casually laying on the bed in a black silk robe, reading the Bible. He immediately flushed due to his only clothing currently being a single towel.

"Considering Amara predates the coming of Christ, I don't think she's in there," Sam said. He stood, showing off his glistening abs and unnecessarily muscular biceps. His hair was messy and still damp, creating the perfect picture if Crowley would only glance his way.

"I'm desperate enough to turn to unconventional methods. Your clothes are on the trunk at the foot of the bed," he flipped a page, still refusing to look up.

Sam's pride was hurt, but he couldn't discern why.

He walked over to the trunk, silently evaluating the demon's choice in clothing. "Very nice, Moose," he said, still refusing to look up, but the teasing comment was not lost on the hunter.

Sam grabbed the clothes and walked back to the bathroom to dress. When he returned, Crowley hadn't appeared to have moved.

"So what? You brought me here for a study session?" The dark blue jeans and the black and gray flannel shirt fit perfectly. He found that odd fact didn't bother him nearly as much as Crowley seeming to have no interest in seeing him half naked.

"Something like that," he admitted, finally looking at the young hunter. "You were expecting a cup of tea and a bit of gossip?"

"No," he sat on the edge of the bed the opposite side of Crowley. "I wasn't really sure why you asked me here, to be honest."

"You're bored. And you're dangerous when you're bored."

Sam could feel his anger rising. "So you brought me here to babysit me? I'm not a liability, Crowley!"

"I know."

Sam didn't know what else to say. He laid back on the bed, staring up at the stone ceiling. His anger was a waste of energy.

"If I ask you something personal, will you tell me the truth?" He said quietly.

"Well I hardly think you've earned that privilege, but I'll see what I can do."

Sam rolled on his side to face the demon. "Did we sleep together last night?"

Crowley laughed lightly, still studying the book. "No, Sam. We didn't."

"Really? Because I remember a hotel room and... And not much else."

Crowley glanced at Sam, suspiciously. "Because you passed out. Nothing happened, Moose. Scout's honor."

"So if we didn't sleep together, and you aren't playing babysitter... why bring me here?"

"Why would sleeping with you lead to me bringing you here?"

"To see if I'd do it again."

To his shock, Crowley actually laughed. "I don't make a habit of bedding the same person more than once. And if I did, I'd make sure they wanted me while sober. Conquering you wouldn't mean anything if you couldn't even remember it." His attention returned to his book.

"Conquering me, hmm?"

"Don't look for a fight, Moose. It wasn't meant to be an insult. You need to work on those anger issues. I'm guessing those repressed feelings of hatred and anger are what would have made you an excellent Captain of the demon army," he turned another page.

"I don't have repressed feelings."

He could see Crowley smiling and he stood up, trying to get away before he felt the need to fight again. "Right," the demon started, "You've led a perfectly normal life and haven't had to be mentally strong for any reasons, real or imagined. You're the epitome of mental health. No pit experience to speak of. No traumatic deaths. No unusual stress, anxiety or PTSD." Crowley laid the book down on the bedside table and stood up as well on the opposite side of the bed.

"Ok," Sam turned to face him to address the sarcastic comments, "since when did you become Crowley, King of Hell, PhD?"

"I'm not your angel friend. I actually have a brain." Crowley was walking towards him now. "I don't get by on powers alone. Running a business, maintaining hell, it takes more than brawn. So let the idiots scour the globe. We'll sit down here in my comfy bed brainstorming. That's what smart people do, Sam. They think."

"I could've done research back at the bunker."

"You searched that bunker top to bottom. Do you have any information to share with the rest of the class?" He was in front of Sam now, eyeing him curiously.

Sam's mind immediately jumped to his dreams about the pit. He wasn't sure Crowley would take him seriously. Then again, he had been desperate to tell someone. Crowley would definitely use it against him, unless... Crowley was probably the only person who could actually help Sam.

"Nothing from a book," he said quietly.

"But..."

"But, I've been having strange dreams. About the pit." Crowley watched Sam carefully, but said nothing. "In my dream, I get back into the pit with Lucifer. I don't know why, but I feel like someone is sending me these dreams. Not even dreams, really. More like visions. Maybe it's God...?"

"Well, I don't believe it's God."

"Why not?" The question was genuine, not accusatory.

"I don't believe he'd step in now. And if he did, it wouldn't be through visions. He's not going to simply hint at how to defeat her if she's enough of a threat for him to reach out in the first place. He would make sure you received proper guidance, not snippets and pieces."

He was sure his disappointment shown through. He was tired of searching for a seemingly hopeless answer and he had been holding onto hope that this would be the answer. Crowley's assessment made sense, though.

"Where do we go next then?"

"Well, we have this entire bed to ourselves..." Crowley said, his expression stoic yet searching.

"I thought you didn't want to sleep with me?" Sam smirked.

Crowley shrugged. "Just because I'd like it to have a little more depth doesn't mean I'm incapable of enjoying a good fuck for the hell of it."

"Noted. Still, I think we should at least have some sort of plan when we go back."

"I agree, Moose."

Sam thought for a moment, before revealing too much again, "Am I really not fun?"

"You mock me for sharing my concerns for your mental health and now you want a heart to heart?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, why not? Unlike Cas and Dean, at least I know you'll be brutally honest with me."

Crowley nodded his head, "true. Ok then, let's lay it all out. You're stronger than you think. Stronger than they think. But emotionally, you're weaker. Dean survives because he buries everything. Not healthy, but it works for him. You've tried and you can't do that. It's why you loved demon blood, why your first instinct is anger. You *want* to forget those feelings, to pretend they don't exist. You're smart, and you can fight. But your emotions hinder your judgement and if you don't get those under control, you _will_ become a liability." He took a deep breath, then exhaled. "As far as being fun? You're definitely entertaining. I think we need another night out, less alcohol, to appropriately gauge that."

"Ok, so let's go out," Crowley's words has stung, but he had asked for the truth. The demon hadn't held back. After hearing it, though, he needed a drink.

"I rather enjoy the thought of us staying here..." Crowley was circling Sam now and he reached his hand up to Sam's shoulder then slowly traced a finger across his back as he spoke. "I think we have some unresolved issues to deal with. You're fine around everyone except me."

His eyes closed as he felt Crowley touching him. He didn't move. "Because you've done things... terrible things."

"Yes, but so have you," he had reached the other side of Sam's back now and walked around to face the hunter. "I think you're angry when you're near me because you're fighting a feeling you're ashamed of. You don't cold shoulder even Lucifer the way you do me. Something about me sets you off," his eyes met Sam's and the hunter felt vulnerable under his gaze.

He couldn't seem to hold back, "I don't want to be the connection to hell."

Crowley smirked. "And after all you've seen of angels you'd want heaven? Some of them are worse than my demons... and you know just how bad my demons can be, don't you, Sam?"

Sam's muscles tensed and he tried to steady his breathing. What Crowley was saying, it was everything the darkest parts of his mind had thought, yet he himself would never admit. Hell would welcome him. Treat him better than the angels ever had.

"You know I'm right," Crowley said, studying Sam for a sign of acceptance. "So you take it out on me. Because Dean got the angels you thought you deserved. It'll be easier on you when you admit to yourself that you belong here with me. With us. You weren't meant for Heaven, Sam."

The scene changed and they were in a bar, different from last time. This one was dark and nearly empty. Sam wasn't even sure what time of day it was anymore.

Classic rock played in the background so low Sam couldn't even tell what song it was. He looked to Crowley and noticed that the demon now wore his usual all black attire, having changed from his silk robe.

"And on that sobering note," Crowley took a seat at the bar, "let's get rid of those pesky emotions, shall we?"

"Two beers," he told the petite, blonde bartender. She smiled at Sam and Sam blushed, then took a seat next to Crowley.

"No shots today, huh?"

"I'm pacing you, Moose. I'd rather not have a repeat of last night."

Sam's blush didn't subside. "Ok, so," he was still trying to simultaneously process and yet actively ignore what Crowley had been saying earlier, "back to the Amara situation." The bartender set down two cold glasses and Crowley took a sip. "You really think the pit is a bad idea?"

He stared at the bottles behind the bar, studying them while he formulated an answer. "Do I think," he repeated, "that putting Lucifer's vessel in the pit with him is a bad idea? Yes, I believe I do."

"When you put it like that-"

"There's no other way to put it, Sam. It's a bad idea. Find a new one."

"But," the hunter couldn't let it go, "what if I'm meant to let him in? What if he's the one who can put her back?"

"Do you really believe that?" Crowley sounded skeptical.

"No, maybe... I don't know. What do you have to lose anyway?"

"Besides my position as King of Hell?"

Sam laughed bitterly. "So that's more important than the fate of man?"

"And you," Crowley took another sip while Sam processed this.

"What do you mean, me?"

"I think sacrificing yourself is a bad idea."

"But, but you hate me," Sam sputtered.

"No," Crowley said calmly, not looking away from his drink, "I don't. Think about it. I've occasionally put you in harms way... maybe more so..."

Sam spoke slowly as if something had just occurred to him, "you've had multiple chances to kill me. And you haven't... why?"

"Finally, some recognition."

It was Sam's turn to take a drink. A long drink. He was confused about Crowley again.

"You're inside my head," Sam said, setting his drink down.

"Oh, am I? Are we at least doing anything fun."

Sam smirked, "no. I mean you saying all that stuff about me belonging in hell... you've taken everything I've thought but couldn't say and gave it life."

"Ah, yes. And I guess I also forced you to stay in my room? I don't recall any confrontation about me snatching you from the bunker. Not a single request to go back. You're as curious about this as I am. Except I'm not curious about it anymore," he stated. Sam felt his heart hurt at the comment. He still wasn't sure why it bothered him when Crowley seemed disinterested.

"Why not?" He found the courage to ask, not really wanting to hear the sarcastic answer he felt he was bound to receive.

Crowley shrugged. "I know enough now to realize none of this was a coincidence," he looked to Sam, "or a mistake. Once you've rid your mind of those preconceived notions about Heaven and Hell, you'll know I'm right."

He had grown so used to dismissing Crowley, all his thoughts and ideas, all his sympathies, all of him, that he hadn't truly seen the demon before now. They had always been enemies in his mind, even when he had aided them.

Crowley was watching Sam thoughtfully and raised an eyebrow when the hunter caught him staring. Before Crowley could process what was happening, Sam leaned forward and pressed his lips against the demons. He grinned and pulled back. The demon tasted of alcohol and Sam found that he didn't mind it. He had felt a spark when the two touched...

Crowley's eyes had closed during the kiss but now widened when the human pulled away. He didn't seem to be capable of forming words at the moment. Finally, he blurted out, "what was that for?"

"Last time we kissed, you said I belonged with you, something like that. 'We'd be perfect together,' I think.. I wanted to see if it felt as good sober as it did last night."

"You remember that?" The demon seemed legitimately concerned now.

Sam nodded. "I don't remember anything else after that. Just the kiss... and what you said."

Crowley remained silent.

"You meant it, didn't you?"

It was Crowley's turn to nod.

"Did you mean like," Sam began to mumble as his cheeks flushed again, "to rule by your side or, um... or as a boyfriend?"

"I prefer the term lover to boyfriend, but whichever makes you happy. Your choice." Crowley finished his beer and signaled the bartender for another.

"I'm fine with lover," he said quietly. "But we can't tell Cas. Or Dean."

"They're bound to find out eventually."

Sam ram his fingers through his long, wavy locks and sighed. "I know, I just... not yet, ok?"

"Fine by me. Just make sure I'm there when you reveal the big news. I want to watch their jaws hit the floor." Crowley was grinning and Sam laughed.

"I feel like we're in high school."

"You dated the devil in high school? No wonder you were drawn to me," Crowley teased.

"Heh, no," he took another drink, "and you were still dealing souls back then anyway."

"True," Crowley said. "So tell me, of all the beasts and creatures you've encountered, what was your favorite?"

"Wow. Well... where to begin, really." He motioned to the bartender. "We're gonna need a few more beers for this conversation."


	4. Chapter 4

The door to his room was closed and there was a brief hesitation before he opened it. This was his return to "normal." Being with the demon had let him be his old self for a while. He had been happy. Now, he returned home to the bunker of his own free will. Castiel and Dean were gone, of course. After having an incredible night just spending time with Crowley, Sam insisted he go back to the bunker to come up with a fresh idea for Castiel and Dean.

Crowley had graciously agreed to return him. "But if you need me, you know my number. I know how boring it can get topside." He smiled thinking about the demon's last comment before he left.

When he entered the room, he couldn't stop smiling. There, on the bed, lay his clothes from when he had showered at Crowley's. He quickly put them away, laid on his bed and sighed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this at peace. Yes, Amara was dangerous. Yes, they needed to find a solution. But his mind wasn't racing as it had been days before. An imaginary weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he felt more comfortable with who he was than he had in years.

He closed his eyes and when he opened them, several hours had passed. His exhaustion had caught up with him.

Sam slowly made his way to the kitchen, desperately needing a cup of coffee. When he walked in on Dean and Castiel having a whispered conversation, he pretended to not have noticed.

"Sammy," Dean acknowledged him.

"Hi, Sam," Castiel added.

He only waved and went about making the pot of coffee he'd been focusing on.

"So," Dean's eyes follow him, "you and Crowley come up with anything good?"

Sam shook his head, the messy brown locks swaying gently. He was turned away from Dean and biting his lip. 'Don't mention the cage,' he reminded himself.

"Then I guess you don't need to see Crowley again?"

Sam didn't bother turning around and instead tried to remain calm. "You and Cas have been coming up empty handed for weeks. Crowley and I aren't allowed the same grace?"

"As in grace period?" Dean feigned confusion, but his angry undertone showed it was intentional. "Crowley gets no grace. Crowley _has_ no grace. You, on the other hand, should have had a plan weeks ago. You're the one who's poured over these books day in and day out-"

"Yeah, and it gets boring, Dean," he said, slamming the coffee can down. He didn't want to fight. "Look, I get it. You don't trust Crowley. But at least trust me."

"Not until you give me something we can use against Amara. Until then, the only thing I'm trusting is Crowley's history. If he's not helping us, he's using us."

"Like we've done to him," Sam said quietly, but he knew Dean heard him.

Before Dean could say anything more, Castiel changed the topic.

"You hesitated earlier. You did have an idea." His monotone voice was welcome, even if his emotionally detached detective skills weren't.

Sam sighed, grabbed his empty mug and went to sit at the table while the coffee brewed. "I've been having dreams," he started, "visions, actually. I'm in the cage with Lucifer, but it feels right. He says he can stop Amara if I let him in and I-"

"No friggin way, Sammy," Dean swiped his hand through the air is a horizontal motion, signaling to Sam that it was the end of the discussion.

"Just listen to me, Dean! I think it's God."

Castiel gave Dean a suspicious look and Dean shook his head. "No, not possible."

"But the darkness is his sister. It would make sense for him to come out now-"

"It's too dangerous, Sam. It's not happening."

"Yeah, well, I don't need your blessing, Dean." He got up the table, poured himself a cup of coffee and walked away. He walked around the corner and froze, waiting to see if they would pick up the whispered conversation from earlier. He wasn't disappointed.

"It's ready. We could throw him in there now."

"I don't know, Dean. I don't think he's done anything to warrant this reaction. He was right about you spending months with Crowley. What could happen if Sam and Crowley spent time together?"

"Let me get this straight," Dean's voice was low, but Sam could still detect him using the same sarcastic tone he used when he thought Castiel was being naive, "you think, even after hearing Sam say he wants to jump into the pit with Lucifer, that letting him wander around hell with a demon is a good idea? Does that cover everything? Anything I left out?"

Silence.

Dean continued, "we lock Sam up tonight. If he gets back to hell, if he gets back in the pit, we'll lose him, Cas," there was a note of desperation in his voice that almost won Sam over, but he couldn't give in. Dean and Castiel had been keeping him out of harms way with Amara and he was tired of feeling useless. Even if he couldn't get into the pit with Lucifer, he had no intention of being locked away in the bunker.

* * *

"Ah, Moose, so soon," Crowley sounded unusually pleased when he answered Sam's call.

"Change of plans," Sam whispered. "I need to take a temporary leave in hell."

"In or from?"

"In, now."

There was a knock on Sam's door as the line went dead. Castiel was staring at Sam, his expression more apologetic than Sam was comfortable seeing.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he said.

"Sorry for what?" Crowley said, from the far corner of Sam's room.

Both he and Castiel looked over as Dean called from the hallway, "Now, Cas!"

Castiel was by Sam's side and gripped his arm tightly, but Crowley had reached him first. The last thing Sam saw was the shocked look on the angel's face before he and Crowley disappeared.

* * *

Sam stood in the middle of Crowley's room and the demon only looked at the floor, his jaw clenched.

"I need to know _exactly_ what I just pulled you from." He looked up and locked eyes with the hunter. "No hidden truths. No omissions. I'll bring the wrath of heaven upon myself if that's what it takes to keep you safe, but it had better be for a damn good reason."

Sam took in a deep breath, then exhaled. "Ok, you're right. You deserve the truth. And if it's not enough to keep me here, then send me back." Sam paused, but Crowley only waited. "They wanted to lock me up. I told them about the pit, but they were planning it before that. They don't think it's safe for me in hell. Or with you..." His voice wavered near the end. He wasn't sure if Crowley understood that his phone call had been out of fear. The thought of not being able to see the demon again was too much for Sam.

Crowley responded without hesitation, "you can stay." Sam nodded. "But I'm in the middle of court so keep out of trouble until I get back. Alright, sweetheart?" Sam knew he was only teasing when he said that, but it still made Sam blush.

"Of course. I'll stay right here. I just needed out..." Crowley said nothing but seemed to understand. Without a word, he vanished.

Sam exhaled loudly then sat on the edge of Crowley's bed. "Now what..." he wondered aloud.

"Well if it isn't Samuel," Rowena's voice was grating yet undeniably familiar that Sam needn't even glance to the doorway to know who resided there.

"Rowena," he said, his voice low.

"Why so glum Samuel? Surely Fergus hasn't left you in this dreadful room to rot," her heels clicked against the stone floor as she approached him. He noticed a long, dark purple ball gown and only then realized she had a hideous contraption like a massive dog collar around her neck. He didn't bother to ask; he didn't care. "As much as I hate the boy, his imagination for creative torture wasn't all bad. Must be losing his touch," she mused as she sat next to him. He slide closer to the bedpost, away from her. "Oh stop it, Samuel. I won't bite."

"Ya know what, Rowena," his bitter smirk was directed at the floor, but he then turned to face her, "I'm actually here of my own free will."

Rowena's facial expression changed briefly and then her wide smile was back. Had he imagined the flicker of realization?

"So what brings you to our lovely corner of Hell? Anything I can help with, dear?"

Sam contemplated, his concern over Crowley, Dean's and Castiel's warnings against the plan coming forefront in his mind. And yet, if there was no other way, Rowena was maybe the only person who could get him in there.

"You know about the darkness. So you know we're all scrambling to find something, anything," he stressed, "to use against her." Rowena remained silent, but her eyes never left the hunter. "I've been having visions from... from God. I think Lucifer can defeat Amara. I think I'm supposed to be in the cage with him. I think I'm supposed to-"

She cut him off, "hush, child. Shhh, it's alright. I'll take care of ye now." She brushed his hair back lightly with her hand and he jumped up from the bed. "Sorry, meant nothing by that, Samuel. You just sounded so ashamed. Motherly instincts to comfort the hurt kicked in." Her feigned empathy angered him, but he beat those feelings down.

"Can you help or not?" His tone was curt, and he felt sick at the thought of working with this woman. He was quickly running out of options, though. Maybe this would keep Castiel and Dean from criticizing him about Crowley. If he rid the world of Amara, they would have nothing to hold over him.

She smiled that wide, deceitful smile again and Sam knew something was wrong. Still, he wouldn't stop now.

"I might be able to cook something up. Come with me, Samuel. Let's see what we can do about this cage nonsense."

"You want nothing in return?" He asked, suspicious.

The witch looked about the room, then back to Sam. "I don't like it here, Samuel, but I'm gone along with the rest of the world if the darkness wins. So I'll ask nothing for now, but maybe a favor later?"

"That's optional," Sam clarified.

"Of course, dear. Mutually beneficial agreement for the time being."

She stood to leave and Sam followed her out of Crowley's room without hesitation.

* * *

The two stood staring at the cage as the flames begin to fade. "Rowena..." he said cautiously. The witch only smiled.

"Isn't this what you wanted, Samuel?"

When the flames and sigils had disappeared entirely, Sam could only feel fear. The feeling only grew when he looked to Rowena but saw Lucifer. He was in the cage now. There was no escaping this time.

* * *

Crowley returned to his room hours later to discover it empty. He pulled out his phone and dialed Sam. No answer. He tried several more times before going against his own personal wishes and dialed Dean.

"Where is he?" Dean yelled into the phone.

"Calm down," Crowley barked back. "I don't have him... anymore."

"Anymore? What did you do with him?" Dean was yelling again.

Crowley sighed and suddenly Dean and Castiel were in his room. "There, now stop screaming at me."

Dean ran toward the demon, but Castiel stopped him.

"Keep your pet on a leash," Crowley growled out to the angel. "I left Sam here for safe keeping. When I came back, the room was empty. I don't know where he could've wandered off to. I thought you had taken him back. I was ready to rip you limb from limb, literally."

"You didn't cast him into the pit?" Dean said, his tone accusatory.

"No, I..." his face went blank as he realized what had happened. Crowley took off running and the two followed him.

* * *

Crowley saw Rowena calmly watching the cage as he, Castiel and Dean approached. Dean reached her first and grabbed the witch, turning her around and pushing her up against the rail she had been leaning against. "What have you done?"

Rowena grinned and then looked over her shoulder to the cage. "Why I granted Samuel's wish, of course."

"Get him out, now," Crowley said.

"That'll be a bit difficult, Fergus."

"Perhaps you've forgotten that elegant little choker around your neck. Release him, now."

Dean let her go and she straightened her gown. "I'll do what I can, but it will take time."

Castiel spoke directly to Crowley, "you go with her. Dean and I will keep an eye on Sam."

Crowley grabbed the chain that connected to his mothers collar and gave the cage one last look before he left. Sam was bleeding and wounded. He tried to shut the image out as he walked away, but the guilt overwhelmed him. He walked faster, practically dragging his mother behind him as her clicks clicked rapidly in an attempt to keep up with him.

* * *

"Oh, look, roomie. Some of our friends have come to join us."

Sam could hardly see through the pounding in his head, but Castiel and Dean's forms were undeniable when he saw them in the cage. He pulled himself up, one hand on a bar of the cage the other pressed firmly against the floor, holding himself up.

"No," he groaned weakly. Lucifer delivered a swift kick to his ribs and smiled when he heard a sickening crunching sound.

"This is fun, isn't it?" He held his hands out, asking Dean.

"Shut up, Lucifer," Dean said through clenched teeth.

"Well, I would Dean. Just convince your brother to say yes so I can defeat the darkness. Then you'll never have to hear from me or your brother ever again. And really, isn't that you want? To stop having to clean up little Sammy's messes?"

Dean ran at Lucifer and the Arch-angel easily tossed him across the cage with one hand. Dean slammed against the bars then fell to the ground. Castiel approached the other angel and the two began to fight with a flurry of motions Sam couldn't track.

Dean dodged the two as he crawled over to Sam. "We just need to stall. Rowena will get us out of here."

"She put us in here," Sam said, his physical pain making his voice weak, tired.

"Crowley's on it."

"So you trust him now?"

"So not the time, Sammy."

The two looked over to Lucifer and Sam felt his heart pounding in his chest as he saw what was certain to be the end of Castiel. Suddenly, a bright light surrounded them.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, they were back on the ground. Crowley and Rowena met them shortly after, but Castiel simply walked past the pair. Dean, supporting Sam, pushed Crowley aside.

"Stay the hell away from my brother."

Crowley didn't fight him. Sam was in too much physical pain to register his disappointment in Crowley simply letting them walk away.

* * *

The car ride back to the bunker was quiet, with Castiel sitting happily in the backseat.

Sam didn't want to know why the angel appeared so cheerful. They hadn't gotten any closer to defeating Amara.

As the trio walked down the stairs to the bunker, Sam wondered why Dean hadn't exploded yet. It was bound to happen. He wished his older brother would get it over with. The anticipation was exhausting him. He was already ashamed and embarrassed. He had let down everyone. His brother, Castiel and Crowley. He had trusted Rowena, had fallen for Lucifer's trap.

He stumbled a little, still physically weak from the assault in the cage. When Dean caught him, his brother twisted his arm behind his back. "Ow, Dean, what the..." he saw black and felt nothing.

* * *

When he awoke, he could hear voices. Sam kept his eyes closed and listened carefully.

"Thanks for putting him out like that. Definitely easier to get him in there without a fight."

"Of course, Dean. But you should know, when I touched Sam I saw how he feels about Crowley."

"Ok, so what are we up against? Brainwashed? Threats? Blackmail?"

Castiel laughed and the sound made Sam uncomfortable. "They're dating."

"What?" Dean shouted.

"Calm down," Castiel was laughing again. "I think for the time being, you should stay away from Sam. I'm not as easily swayed as you are. He's your brother, Dean. If anyone is going to let him out, it'll be you. I'll check on him regularly, I promise. But he truly believes he cares about Crowley and that Crowley cares about him in return. We all barely escaped the cage. Let's leave Sam to think on his actions for a little while, ok? In the meantime we'll come up with a plan to defeat Amara."

"That's um, that's actually pretty sound advice, Cas. For you, I mean. Ok then, he's all yours."

Sam opened his eyes to see Dean walking away. He found himself in a cell located deep within the bunker. It was similar to a prison cell, but more intricate. There was a shower in the corner with clear walls and door, a toilet and sink on either side of it, a bed and small dresser with a tv sitting atop it at the foot of the bed. A small bookshelf in the far corner held at least thirty books on lore. They had thought this through. Sam was meant to stay here long term, or at least until Amara was defeated.

When he looked out through the bars, he noticed Castiel watching him with a smirk. Then, suddenly, Castiel was in the large cell with him. He grabbed Sam by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "Hello again, Sam."

Sam's heart dropped. He knew that look. "Lucifer..."


	5. Chapter 5

**Mentions of the prequel "Last Chance" in this chapter. It's not necessary to read the prequel for this story, but it would give the passage regarding it more meaning if so.**

* * *

Sam was holding tightly to Lucifer's arm with both hands, trying desperately to loosen his grip. It made no difference. "How did-"

"Castiel wanted this, Sam."

"No, he wouldn't-"

"Oh, but he did, Sammy," Lucifer frowned, mocking Sam's own disappointment. "Don't worry, though. I'll handle the darkness." He dropped the hunter and Sam fell back against the stone wall of the cell. "But first, I need Castiel's vessel to run a few errands. He won't mind, I'm sure. He's already checked out." Lucifer smiled. "And as for you? Oh, Sammy," Lucifer gently patted the side of Sam's face, "we're going to have so much fun here. I had thought, you know, about killing you." His hands went up and he looked around the cell. "But, this is better. For now, anyway. First on my list, make Dean miserable. Second, do something about the witch. And third? Oh Sammy, you're gonna love third."

He roughly grabbed Sam's chin and forced the human to look at him. "I'm gonna make your little boyfriend my bitch. In _every_ way."

Sam's eyes widened with fear. "Don't touch him!"

Lucifer laughed, "I'm going to do so much more than touch him. When you see him again, _if_ you see him again, I will have destroyed every last shred of humanity within him. Hell belongs to me, now. He won't forget it again."

He stepped back and Sam was certain he would leave, but first, Lucifer pressed two fingers to Sam's forehead and Sam felt all his physical pain diminish.

"Can't having you dying of sepsis before I get back," his smile made Sam furious. "Humans are so weak... but that's not a problem. I'm more than capable of keeping you alive while I pay you back. And it's not just about the cage," he said nonchalantly. "I don't take kindly to being rejected repeatedly. I don't need you anymore, Sam." He gestured to his current vessel. "But killing you now wouldn't have taught you your lesson. So," he raised his right hand, thumb and middle finger pressed together, "I'll be seeing you soon." He snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Sam stared at the empty space for a long time. He was in complete shock. That was what registered first. Then fear. He had to tell Dean. He had to warn Crowley. He had to do something.

He checked all his pockets, but they had taken his phone. He sat on the bed, placed his head in his hands and searched for a solution. 'This is hopeless,' he thought. 'Crowley, Dean, even Cas, they'll all be hurt because I couldn't listen to them for once. There has to be a way out of here. Some loophole, something they overlooked.'

His mind moving quickly, searching all possible options. He decided to search the dresser. Maybe there was something in the drawers that he could use to pick the lock or send a message.

He pulled out a stack of clothes and sat them on the dresser. As he began rummaging through them, he came across the shirt he'd been wearing when he had his first unofficial "date" with the King of Hell. He tried to keep that thought out of his mind, but when his fingertips brushed the safety pin that hadn't been removed, the safety pin that held Crowley's note before it was snatched from his body... he squeezed the shirt tightly, his fist pushing against the wooden dresser, and felt the tears coming. He had never felt such a mixture of helplessness and guilt. Sam sank to his knees taking the shirt with him, ignoring the pain of the hard stone against his legs. 'What have I done?'

* * *

"Dean," Lucifer was using Castiel's signature monotone voice.

"Yeah?" Dean looked up from the laptop he'd been staring at. "How's Sammy?"

"He's upset, but he'll get over it."

"Oh," Dean looked back at the laptop screen, as though he were actively avoiding the topic. He had cleaned the blood from his face and hands. His shirt was clean and a forgotten ice pack was left on the table.

"I'm going out to do more research. I don't know when I'll be back, but stay away from Sam. I'll give him something to eat later."

"Whoa, Cas," Dean leaned back, looking surprised, "that's not necessary. Me going in there isn't like Sam and Lucifer, ok? I'll just drop off a beer and some food and get out before he can start talking. What if you get a good lead and get distracted?"

"Dean," he said, his tone firm, "don't go in there."

Dean raised an eyebrow then stood and approached the angel. "I can't agree to that. He's on lockdown for being a liability, not because he's a criminal. I can handle my brother."

Castiel put a hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezed it tightly. "Don't make me seal you in a soundproof cell next to him," he smiled and felt entertained by Dean's immediate discomfort.

"Be reasonable, Cas-"

"This is exactly why I fell out of love with you, Dean." He saw the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Dean had set the scene so predictably.

"What?"

"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot," while his grip was still on the hunter, he released the memories to Dean of that time years ago when they realized they loved one another, "I was hiding them from you. You know, to keep you safe." Dean's lips parted, but no sound came out. He could only stare at Lucifer, who continued happily. "In the beginning, that is. Originally, it was done to keep you safe. But as I got to know you, to know the _real_ Dean Winchester," he tsked, "what a letdown."

"Cas, you... you loved me?" His face was priceless. Lucifer pressed on, enjoying the look of sheer torment on Dean's face while Castiel was yelling loudly inside his mind, insisting Lucifer tell Dean the truth.

"I did," he nodded, looking thoughtful. "Or at least I thought I did. Then I got to know you, Dean. Was used by you and your brother time and again for your own self guided interests. You've hurt so many people to save yourself and Sam. I thought you were one of the good guys. But you're not. You're weak. Even you know it. Deep down, the whole macho, tough guy act. You know, Dean. You're not worthy of anyone's love, let alone an angel. So you pretend you don't care, but you do care. Don't you? Because you know how worthless you really are and you've just been praying for years that no one else could see it." He had to hold back a grin as he felt Dean crumbling emotionally inside. Keeping Castiel's stoic expression was worth it while playing the part. Dean was devastated.

"I'm only here because up until now, you Winchesters keep coming out on top somehow. I think that time is almost over. Until then, I'll stick around because we're... well, we're friends afterall, aren't we? So how about you get working on a solution to defeating Amara and I'm gonna go do some research of my own." He patted Dean's shoulder roughly. "For the record, I never loved you, Dean." Lucifer could feel his body begin to tremble uncontrollably as Castiel threatened to break through. He had to end it now. "And I never could."

The angel disappeared.

It didn't occur to Dean that Castiel had been having trouble teleporting. All he could think about was what he had lost. Something he hadn't even known about that he had lost. Castiel had been his, once. Completely his. For less than a day. Was he truly so unworthy of love that Castiel had passed up all those moments since then to tell him the truth? So many times he'd felt a spark, a connection, and he waited for the angel to act on it. Now he knew why.

He reached a hand up to wipe away a lone tear and looked down to his laptop. His stomach sick with guilt, his chest pained from unrequited love, Dean walked through the empty hallway to his room. He no longer wanted to see Sam. He wanted to see no one. They _had_ been selfish. They had only looked out for each other and Castiel had noticed. Not only that, Castiel had been disgusted by it.

He wiped at his cheek again, then the other side. He was crying steadily now. His heart hurt. When he reached his room, he realized he didn't want to be there either.

After a change of clothes, he began a slow walk toward the gym. His mind needing to focus on anything besides his crippling heartbreak. Exercise could help. A nice distraction while he mindlessly worked his body to death. Anything it took to move past this pit in his stomach.

* * *

Rowena's lifeless corpse fell to the floor and Lucifer motioned to Crowley, indicating the demon should follow him. Crowley stood and did as he was told.

"The Winchesters," Crowley couldn't stop himself. Lucifer knew what he was asking.

"They're alive, for now. Still working on a solution to our little problem with the darkness."

"And they know about..."

"Nope. Well, Dean doesn't at least." They were walking toward the court now and Crowley felt a sense of impending doom. This would not end well. "Kind of hard to make him my obedient servant if he doesn't believe I'm Castiel. Sam knows, but he's caged so his awareness is for my own personal enjoyment." Lucifer sighed, blissfully. "I love seeing the look of fear in his eyes while he anticipates my next move. It never gets old."

"If you hurt him-"

"Oh shut up, Crowley. Of course I'm going to hurt him. If you think any of your threats are valid, you're only fooling yourself." When the two arrived, Crowley was apprehended by two of his demons. He scanned the room, looking for a weak link. They all gladly served Lucifer now. He admitted defeat, knowing he would have to bide his time. Days, months or years, he would have to craft his escape carefully. He only hoped Sam could hold on until then.

"Good boy," Lucifer patted Crowley on the head, ruffling his hair. He casually strolled over to the throne and sat, smiling as he faced the demons. "Oh, wait," he sat up, "one little thing to attend to. Then I'll be back. Lock the doggy up so he doesn't make any messes while I'm gone." The angel disappeared.

* * *

Sam hurriedly spun the open safety pin in the lock of the cell. He couldn't see it clearly due it being on the outside, but he had at least found the hole. His arms outstretched through the bars, he'd occasionally wipe his eyes on his tshirt sleeve as the tears were still falling steadily. The panic made it worse. The safety pin wasn't working; it was too small.

He wouldn't give up, but even as he tried, he knew it was hopeless. And if, by chance, Lucifer caught him Sam didn't want to begin to consider the punishment.

"It's like you're reading my mind, Sammy," Lucifer said..

Sam looked up and his chest tightened. Castiel's vessel stood on the outside of the cell, smiling at him. Sam went to take a step back, but was thrown to the ground instead. Lucifer caught the safety pin and held it up. Then it disappeared. Sam felt a sharp pain in his throat and though he tried to cough, it only made the object sink in deeper.

"You should know better than to try escaping, Sam. I'll just let you think about that while that sharp little piece of contraband shreds your throat. In the meantime," he snapped his fingers and the cell door disappeared, replaced by more bars. There was no way to enter of exit his personal prison now. Only three walls of stone and one wall of bars. He hardly noticed, as he gasped. He coughed again and again, driving the object deeper into the lining of his throat. The coughing and gagging was involuntary now.

Lucifer held his hand up and the pin was in his possession again. "Gross, there's blood on it. Guess the 'safe' in safety pin is misleading, huh?" A humorous smirk lit up the angel's face.

Sam spit a small amount of blood onto the floor. He looked to Lucifer, holding his throat and eyeing the angel with venom.

"I'd love to stay and play, Sam, but I have to get back to hell. Lots of change going on and all. I've already got your boyfriend caged and collared," the look of pride on his face made Sam's stomach churn. "You're locked away and Dean is overwhelmed with self loathing. It has been a _very_ productive day."

He watched Sam carefully, then raised a finger as another thought occurred to him. "Oh and don't even think about Dean coming to your rescue. I warded off this section of the bunker. If he tries to get through, he'll think the door to this section has malfunctioned. I'm guessing I'll be his first call to fix it. So," a small plate with a sandwich along with a bottle of beer appeared on the dresser, "we gotta keep that strength up, Sammy. When I get back, I expect you to put up a hell of a fight." He winked and then disappeared.

Sam rubbed at his throat as his eyes stung with tears. The physical pain he could manage. The sense of defeat, however, was crushing him internally. He considered a blood sigil to banish Lucifer the next time the angel appeared, but realized Lucifer was currently his only way in or out of the cell. So what should one do when the devil was running rampant on Earth and within the darkest parts of Hell? Sam pulled himself to kneel at his bed and began to pray.


	6. Chapter 6

I apologize for jumping around a bit. It'll follow season 11 for the most part (with some major tweaks) so some parts will seem like I'm just skimming through. Just tying up a few loose ends this chapter.

Thanks for reading :)

* * *

The ancient witch smiled kindly at God's sister. What she had seen had terrified her. She knew she wouldn't last long once Amara was at full power. Nobody would.

"I'll let ya get some rest, dear," her voice was sickeningly sweet. Amara eyed the witch with a skeptical look and Rowena knew it was time to leave.

She walked quickly and when she was out of sight, she let out a deep breath. This was not good. She had no way to contact Crowley, couldn't imagine revealing her survival to Lucifer and the Winchesters were sure to be furious with her over the cage incident. Who else could she go to that could help her against this monster?

* * *

Sam gritted his teeth and grunted in pain as Lucifer drove the knife deeper into his thigh. He was in front of Sam, holding the back of Sam's neck with one hand as his other held the handle of the blade. They were both on their knees, which caused the pain to radiate as the hunter's muscles flexed. His hands were bound behind his back with a thick rope and he had given up on trying to slip through the restraints.

Several deep cuts on the young hunter's face bled profusely. The slashes marred his once flawless cheeks on both sides. Lucifer leaned forward, his forehead now resting against the hunter's. "All you have to do is tell me. I know you've found something." His voice was calm, which only Sam more fearful.

"Let me tell Dean first-" He gasped as the angel shoved the blade deeper until it stopped.

"Oh, we've hit bone," Lucifer grinned. "Now see," he spoke over Sam's gasping and deep breaths, "you keep repeating that, but I need to hear it first. And thanks to Castiel blocking my signal, I can't read you or your brother right now. I'll beat Castiel back down eventually, but right now I just need to know what the plan is."

"Dean-" Sam started again, but yelled out in pain as Lucifer twisted the knife.

"Tsk tsk tsk, Sammy," he was smiling again. "Dean is on a need to know basis. You're answering to me, now."

"You," Sam could barely open his mouth, the pain overtaking him, "you'll kill him. You'd leave him for dead."

"Probably," the angel leaned back, admiring his work. When Sam slumped forward, the angel gripped his hair tightly and pulled his head back. "But if you don't tell me, I'll definitely kill him. And you'll get a front row seat."

Sam was struggling to breath through the pain and when Lucifer twisted the knife again, he screamed.

"Tell me, Sam. I can mutilate you and rebuild you again and again. I'll do it. You know I will," he let go of Sam's hair and moved his hand to the hunter's chin, forcing him to look at the angel. "You and your brother, you mutated baboons... You'd deserve it for all you've done to me. I'm willing to spare your brother for now. I won't lie to you and say he's safe forever. Still, what would you rather have? I'll drag him in here and kill him in front of you. Then I'll end you. If you help me fight the darkness, maybe I cut you a break, Sammy? Maybe I give Dean a quick death and send you to the cage, rather than torture you endlessly up here. I won't end this by saying 'think about it' because your time is up. Tell me now or Dean dies."

The hunter's jaw was clenched, but between shaky breaths he was able to tell the angel what he'd found in the books. "A ship, a woman of letters named Delphine..."

"Keep going, Sammy," Lucifer smirked.

"The Bluefin went down. The artifact went with it. It was a hand of God, like you've been searching for."

Lucifer's smirk grew and he stood. "You're scared I'll leave Dean on board a sinking ship? Literally. Heh," he looked away as though considering this, "yeah, I would. Thanks for the info, Sammy. I'll take it from here. If Dean makes it back, I'll let you know."

"No," the panic in Sam's voice gave away his greatness weakness.

"Oh yes," Lucifer nodded. "And I don't think you deserve to be healed right now. If I make it back from this, if this isn't some kind of timewarp trap you've cooked up, then I'll try to keep you alive. I didn't knick your femoral artery, but still, try not to bleed out before I get back, ok? Later, Sammy," he winked then disappeared.

* * *

Sam had lost track of time. Every second seemed to last forever. The pain was overwhelming his senses. He kept his eyes shut and hung his head. He didn't have the energy to even attempt a move toward the bed. The only thing that registered when Lucifer reappeared was the sound of wet clothes brushing the ground as the angel took two steps toward the hunter. He promptly grabbed Sam by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Sam struggled, but without his hands being freed, he could only watch as Castiel's vessel gave him a loathsome look.

"You knew the ship was warded?" He said through clenched teeth.

"No, I swear," Sam choked out, struggling against Lucifer's hold. Lucifer pulled the knife from Sam's thigh and the hunter gasped.

He suddenly dropped the younger Winchester brother and Sam yelled in pain as he fell to his knees. The angel grabbed his hair once more and pulled his head back, placing the knife at his throat in one fluid motion. "If your brother hasn't cleared those sigils by the time I go back to get him, he will be dead in the water. If by some miracle, he and the artifact survive, I'll give you both one last reunion to say goodbye. Once the hand of God is in my possession, you're both useless to me."

Before he could continue on with his monologue, his phone alerted him to a text. He stood up and fished the phone out of his pocket.

"Hmm," he mused as he read the message. "Simmons has done some damn good work. My back-up plan is ready and your boyfriend is moments from certain death. If Crowley isn't bluffing, I won't even need to go back and get Dean. Phew. That is a load off my mind," the angel laughed. "It pays to have a plan B. Not that you or your brother ever figured that out. You idiots go all in every time. Ever wonder why you're constantly dying?" Lucifer sounded amused, but as he locked his phone and slipped it back into the pocket of the trench coat he looked back to Sam. "It doesn't matter anymore, though. You're both as good as dead, now. Crowley and your brother are both unknowingly serving me. Let's see who the lucky winner is, shall we? They'll both be dead within the hour, of course. But, Sammy," he leaned down to stroke those wavy brown locks, a decent fraction of which were soaked in blood from the cuts on his face, "none of this would have been possible without your naivety. Don't _ever_ forget that." The angel disappeared.

* * *

Lucifer sneered as he paced the main hall of the bunker. It was almost time to retrieve Dean. He was furious Crowley had escaped. That rascally little bastard. Lucifer slammed his fist on the large table and shouted. "Damn it!"

The piece was useless after one go. He knew that now. As long as Dean didn't use it, he could keep that piece for Amara. He calmed himself then, trying to ready himself for seeing Dean again. Straightening his trench coat, the angel left the bunker once again.

* * *

Castiel's vessel appeared and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder as a blue light filled the ship, emanating from Delphine. He raised an eyebrow curiously, but said nothing as he pulled Dean back to the current time.

"What the hell was that?" he shouted angrily, dropping Dean in a chair at the table in the main hall.

Dean looked up confused. "What?" He placed the box on the table. "I don't know." When Lucifer moved to open the box, Dean shouted, "careful! That thing is powerful, Cas."

"Yeah, I got that," he muttered, before unwrapping the piece and holding it in his hands. He frowned. The power had been drained from this piece as well. He had hoped that wasn't what the blue light had been, but he knew now it was. "Can't you do anything right?" He said angrily, tossing the piece on the table.

"Calm down, Cas. We'll keep looking. What is your problem lately?"

Lucifer threw his hands up in defeat. "Alright, game's over. I give."

"Huh?"

He grabbed Dean and slammed him against the nearest column. "Castiel's here, but he's not the one in charge, Dean. I am"

Dean's eyes widened as the realization hit him. "No... we left you in the cage."

Lucifer shook his head, smiling again. "No, Dean. Castiel welcomed me into his vessel gladly. I'm here to defeat the darkness."

Dean struggled to break free. "You bastard, I'll kill you! Get out of Cas!"

"Hmm... No." He pulled Dean back, then slammed him into the column again. "How about this? I kill you. That sounds way more appealing to me at the moment. I've lost two artifacts today and I really don't feel like hosting a Winchester reunion. If you're dead, then I have nothing to hold over Sam anymore. Which makes the decision to keep him alive really easy. So it's a win/win. For me, I mean. As in I win twice by getting rid of you morons."

"Let him go," Crowley's voice called out before Dean could react.

Lucifer let go of Dean and turned to face the demon. "Aw, so the puppy has come home to his master. Well you've been a very, very naughty little puppy. Maybe if you beg, I'll let you back into your cage without too much punishment."

"I'm not here to play out your warped little fantasy, Lucy. I'm here for Sam."

The angel was sneering again. He approached Crowley and swung, connecting his fist with the right side of Crowley's torso. He didn't notice Crowley locking eyes with Dean just moments before. The two began a short-lived fight in which they exchanged blows until Lucifer finally grabbed Crowley and tossed him into a bookshelf. He looked back to Dean as Crowley pulled himself to his feet.

"No!" He shouted, finally seeing the blood sigil Dean had been preparing. He ran at Dean as the hunter slammed his open palm against the bloodied mark.

Crowley was breathing heavily now, the fight to keep Lucifer distracted taking more out of him than he had anticipated.

"Where's Sam," he managed to inquire as Dean leaned against the column.

Dean stood up, a look of worry taking over. "Locked up."

"For what?" Crowley growled at him.

"Cas, I mean Luficer... We were going to lock him up, anyway. After the cage, we did it as soon as we got back to the bunker. I haven't seen him in over a week."

Crowley felt ill. What had the angel been doing with Sam all alone? His feelings toward the hunter were certainly not pleasant.

"Where is he?"

Dean took off in the direction of the cell and Crowley followed.

* * *

Dean threw himself against the door for a third time. "It wasn't locked a week ago!" He shouted, furious.

"Well it appears our angel friend thought it'd be best for you to not see what's behind door number one," Crowley ground out. "This is hopeless. Step aside." The large metal door was dented repeatedly as Crowley punched it again and again.

They were too busy with the door to notice the figure that appeared behind them.

"Hey fellas," a friendly voice said.

Dean turned quickly, his fist pulled back, ready to strike. His panic turned to concern when he noticed an old friend standing before him. "Chuck?"

Crowley ignored him, still beating the door with no sign of improvement.

"Just had a chat with my friend Metatron. Sent Kevin on up to Heaven from the veil. It's been a good day. I decided maybe it was time I stopped by to see you."

"Wait, what?"

At that, Crowley finally looked over and acknowledged 'Chuck.'

"It's God, Dean. He's finally answered young Sammy's prayers. Heaven knows you only pray to see Castiel naked."

Dean blushed and Chuck didn't stop smiling. "I don't think Crowley got any of that wrong," he joked. "So what can I do for you today, gentleman? I believe we have a lot to talk about."

A painful scream coming from the sealed wing of the bunker caused Dean to throw himself against the door again.

"Help us, then. If you're here to help, then-" he turned to find that Chuck had disappeared, along with Crowley.

* * *

Lucifer appeared before Sam and the hunter cringed. He knew what was coming next. He knew he would die.

The angel pulled Sam up to stand on his own feet and Sam felt the rope around his wrists fall away. "Dean isn't dead yet, but he will be. I really," he stressed the word by moving his hand to Sam's throat and squeezing it tightly, "really, wanted finish him in front of you. Unfortunately, there's been a change of plans," he said through gritted teeth.

Sam had felt the bones in his left arm snap and shouted as he felt white hot searing pain shoot through his torso. He wasn't sure which bones, exactly, but he felt sharp pain in several places at once and when he looked down, the arm was bent in multiple directions. "Please," he groaned, "where's Dean?"

"No more questions, Sam. I'm taking out a little bit of my anger on you first. Then, make no mistake, your corpse will rot in this cell."

He dropped Sam unceremoniously and turned to face their new visitors. Sam used his right arm to push himself up and slid his legs under him, even though the right leg the blade had torn apart earlier caused him to flinch.

"Crowley," he growled, "and Dad. So, the absent father returns."

Sam looked up to see Chuck standing next to the demon. Lucifer's words didn't immediately register and he could only focus on avoiding eye contact with Crowley. His shame and guilt were still weighing heavy on his mind. Not even the physical pain he felt could diminish those feelings.

"Give him back, now" Crowley ordered.

Lucifer laughed, "that's not gonna happen."

"Well," Chuck interrupted, "I'll actually be taking Sam. I need to catch up with my boys. In the meantime, you two," he gestured to the angel and the demon, "need to reconcile. Don't come find us until you've made your peace. I have a feeling we're going to need all hands on deck for this next adventure." Chuck and Sam were suddenly gone, leaving Crowley and Lucifer to resolve their mountain of issues alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry! The end of the school year has been brutal. This chapter is just to keep things moving along. Next chapter will focus more on the relationships. Promise ^_^

* * *

The Winchester brothers sat in silence, both occupying overstuffed armchairs in a rarely used study of the bunker. The two chairs faced a wall that held bookshelves packed with books on lore. Chuck paced the wall to Sam's left, passing back and forth in front of the closed door. He didn't seem concerned, though. It was less of an anxious pace and more of a leisurely walk.

Sam didn't know how to start the conversation and he had absolutely no idea why Chuck was there.

"Oh, I'm God," he interrupted Sam's thoughts. "But please call me Chuck."

"Wait, what?" He looked at his old friend, confused.

Dean said nothing, instead staring intently at the bookshelf.

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty close to the end so now seemed as good a time as any." He shrugged, grinning. His lack of concern over the statement bothered Sam. He was certainly in awe, but he had so many questions.

"I know you're mad, Dean." Chuck addressed Sam's brother.

"Oh?" Dean's sarcasm made the simple word overly aggressive. "You think I'm mad? Any guesses as to why?"

Chuck's face finally showed a trace of empathy and he locked eyes with Dean. "I know you feel... abandoned."

"That doesn't even begin to touch it!" Dean angrily shouted back. "Do you know how many times we needed you? How many times you lied to us? And where have you been all this time? In hiding!"

"All my children needed me, Dean. All of them called to me at different times."

"How many of them were down here protecting your precious planet and your creation of man? We were fighting things people have never seen and you could've stepped in at any time and eased some of that burden to protect hundreds, no, thousands of your children!"

"I know..." his eyes were pleading for sympathy but he hadn't moved from his place near the door.

"So that's it? You know? And you're ok with that answer?"

Chuck shrugged. "I can't intervene every time someone needs me. That would destroy the entire concept of free will."

Dean finally stood from his chair and continued shouting. "We were dealing with creatures and forces that went so far beyond free will, how can you pretend you weren't aware of how heavy those obstacles were for all of mankind? Dammit, Chuck, you were there for some of them!"

Chuck only nodded and then looked off into the distance. "Be right back. Meet me in the main hall."

* * *

Crowley landed another punch to Lucifers rib cage before the angel threw him backwards. The demon could only assume Lucifer hadn't snapped his fingers to obliterate him because God might've possibly been upset. That would be the only thing currently saving him.

"He's mine!" The angel shouted, appearing before Crowley, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him against the wall.

"He was never yours," Crowley ground out. He pushed the angel back. "If he was, he would've chosen you long before all of this."

Lucifer sneered, "you've let your emotions make you weak. That boy isn't worth all this. Hand him back over to me and I'll let you go."

"God has him now."

"Get him back and hand him off. If you get me the boy, I won't have to disembowel you when I see you again."

Crowley was struggling to stand, but he refused to break. "I would rather die a thousand painful, tortuous deaths than to let you harm him again."

"You don't actually have a choice. God may be mad when I kill you, but I think he's more than proven he won't intervene. Either way, Sam was never yours. He'll come to me. It will always end the same. You'll never have him. Not truly." Lucifer smirked. "Best to just get it over with now. Take the pain of loss like a man and walk away. It'll hurt more later."

Crowley couldn't hold back his laughter. "Are you serious?" He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye and then looked to the angel, grinning. "I'm guessing it's your daddy issues that have you so misguided over where you stand with little Winchester. Of what value is he to you now anyway? You have Castiel's vessel and we'll be dead in a matter of days. You'd waste your last few hours alive fighting to get Sam's vessel?"

Lucifer just grinned and shook his head. "I don't need his vessel. I don't need him. But if we're all damned anyway, I'd prefer to make him suffer a little more. Get my last bit of enjoyment out of this world before I leave it permanently. You see, Crowley, the cage warped me just a little. I have a lot," he stressed the word through clenched teeth, "of anger. Impending doom doesn't really help to defray that feeling. It simply means I want to take someone down with me. Sam is my choice."

Chuck appeared between the two.

"Playtime is over, boys," he said, smiling. Suddenly all three were transported to the main hall where Dean and Sam were just arriving.

When Dean refused to meet Lucifer's gaze and Sam would look anywhere but directly at Crowley, the demon realized how much of a battle they faced to even begin discussing Amara's defeat.

"So, thoughts?" Chuck asked, his tone polite, seemingly oblivious to the mounting angst and utter misery of those around him.

"Kill Sam?" Lucifer suggested, shrugging.

"Fuck off," Crowley replied.

"Touch him and I'll destroy you," Dean warned.

"Oh right," Lucifer grinned, "like you'd be able to hurt your boyfriend."

"What?" Sam looked to Dean.

"Shut up," Dean's tone was threatening, aimed directly at the being that appeared to be Castiel.

Lucifer grinned. "Don't worry, he's not coming out to fight for you. He's moved on you. You should, too."

Chuck clapped his hands. "Focus, boys. Do you want my help or not? I come all the way here and you can't stop bickering long enough to help me form a plan to avoid the inevitable end of life as we know it."

"What's her weakness?" Sam asked, attempting to redirect the conversation.

Chuck thought for a moment. "Well... nothing you can really help with. No offense, of course. It took a lot to overpower her last time. And we had so much more going for us back then, too. This will definitely not be easy."

"Well we can't all be as easy as Dean, can we! So, so," Lucifer clenched his eyes shut, emphasizing the desperation, "needy... and, quite frankly, pathetic."

"Lucifer..." Chuck said calmly.

"Forget this. I'm out of here. Call me if you get tired of wasting your time listening to a psychotic angel."

Dean stormed off while Chuck hung his head. Lucifer grinned again. "Cas sends his love, sweetheart," he called after the hunter.

Chuck sighed. "Well this is going nowhere fast. I really thought I had the best minds suitable for the job, but I think I was mistaken."

"We'll get it figured out. Maybe... divide and conquer?" Sam suggested.

"Samantha has a point," Crowley agreed. "We all need time to think this over. You know, brainstorm and all that. We know who we have on our team now. At this point, the weapons are available. The strategy is all that remains to be determined."

"If that's what you feel is best..."

"Yes," Sam nearly shouted, seemingly excited at the thought of being able to work alone.

"So be it," Chuck said. Before Lucifer could protest or begin antagonizing Sam again, God caught his attention. "You and I have some catching up to do first."

* * *

When Dean had left, no one chased after him. Lucifer had disappeared with Chuck shortly after. That meant Sam would have to finally face Crowley. He had secretly been hoping the demon would take the chance to leave, but he hadn't.

The hunter sat quietly at the table in the main hall, his muscles tightened and his figure tensed. Crowley stood watching him and Sam felt his cheeks flushing. He didn't know how to start this conversation. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, to assure Crowley that he realized he was wrong. But he couldn't bring himself to even begin forming the words. What if Crowley refused to accept his apology? What if the demon was so furious over Sam's misguided actions that he told the hunter he never wanted to see him again?

He couldn't take that chance. He couldn't start what may very well be the end of his relationship with Crowley. He would sit in silence until he had no other choice.

Several minutes passed before Crowley made the first move. He walked over to the table and sat across from Sam. Sam made no motion to acknowledge his presence.

"I thought-" the demon started.

"That you had told me it was a bad idea? You thought that I would listen? You thought I wouldn't be so stupid?" Sam angrily cut him off. He didn't want a lecture. He felt bad enough as it were.

When Sam finally looked at him, Crowley was holding up a single digit, signaling the young Winchester to stop talking. "I thought," he began once again, "that I would lose you today. I tried to set a trap for Lucifer and when it failed... when he fled... I didn't know if I'd ever see you again... alive, at least. I can't recall in any of my years in hell or on Earth where I have ever felt such terror," he continued. Sam wanted to look away, but couldn't. He felt such guilt over the pain he had caused everyone, especially Crowley.

"But," Sam's voice was low, "I'm the cause of this whole mess." Sam could finally look away now. He didn't want to meet Crowley's eyes while he bared his soul. "If I had just listened-"

"And if we hadn't gotten Dean the mark of Cain and if Death hadn't been killed and if God had intervened and Castiel and your brother hadn't pushed you away. There are too many ifs, Samantha." Sam looked up at Crowley after that teasing jab. Crowley's facial expression hadn't changed. "It was your fault. It was everyone's fault. Castiel didn't have to let him in. That was the final straw. Not you. We all started this in one way or another. Your actions absolutely amplified it, but your intentions were pure. Because you've never been anything but pure, Sam."

Sam scoffed. "Well we both know that's not true."

Crowley shook his head. "You're too hard on yourself. You'd never intentionally hurt someone. While drinking demon blood, yes, but that wasn't really you either. I guess," the demon shrugged, "I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't stop Lucifer. I'm sorry he overpowered me and I couldn't save you."

Sam stared at Crowley in disbelief. The look of utter helplessness and defeat hurt him. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"But I do. I wanted to protect you."

"You don't have to."

"You've forgotten the difference between a want and a need? Do you need to go back to basic health class?"

"I didn't know you were into the student teacher role play thing?"

Crowley laughed. "I'm into whatever you're up for. I just want you to be happy. And safe..." He locked eyes with Sam and Sam could feel that connection again, that spark. He wanted to be near the demon. He wanted the demon to protect him, to keep him safe.

He also found that what he wanted, more than anything, was to show Crowley affection he'd never known before. The demon deserved so much more than to be regularly caught up in the whirlwind of Winchester chaos and, quite honestly, consistently on the losing side. He'd shown his humanity, his capacity to work with everyone for the greater good. Yet he was always denied happiness. Sam intended to change that.

"My pride is still hurting from the complete cluster that was my latest bad decision. Want to go grab some dinner and take our minds off of it while Chuck and Lucy repair their damaged relationship?"

Crowley seemed content with the suggestion. "If you're asking me on a date, I accept."

"Good," Sam smiled. It would be hard to move past this. He still felt ashamed of how things had played out and humiliated for how Lucifer had so easily bested him, not to mention tortured him. Still, if Crowley felt guilt, Sam would swallow his damaged pride and make their interactions as normal as possible. In no way did he want to give Crowley an indication that he blamed him for Lucifer's actions.


End file.
